She dreams.

I sat at the kitchen table. My feet didn’t reach the ground. I am small, but I am mighty. My back faced the kitchen. My feet didn’t reach the ground. I sat at the kitchen. I played with Daddy’s notebook. I wrote some words, I drew some doodles. Behind me stood my father, He cooked and sang a song. He had no groove, but the man could do no wrong. My back faced the kitchen.  The house permeated with aromas of life and vibrancy. My dad cooked directly behind me. He cooked directly behind She. Little She, you’re small and mighty. I look behind me. There I saw He. He smiled and laughed at Me. Little She began to cry… I knew … I was in a dream. Young one, caught in web of lie.

He said nothing to She. My dad said nothing to me.

He smiled, and served She a plate. He rushed our encounter. He was running late. I ate.

“I ate.”

Daddy, I’m only 13.

Kisses for young little She. Not a single word. MUTE. He showed Me love in his mystery.

I’m incomplete. My missing puzzle piece.

There He goes… up the stairs he goes.

He leaves She.

I’m incomplete. My missing puzzle piece.
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[An ode to my Father. Your legacy lives through Me.

I love you.]

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